


Protection

by werpiper



Series: in the icing: Layers side stories [11]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Extortion, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:55:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25554688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werpiper/pseuds/werpiper
Summary: The Guards in Thorin's Halls provide a public service.
Relationships: Dwalin/Nori (Tolkien)
Series: in the icing: Layers side stories [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/232551
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Protection

**Author's Note:**

> Policing in my society is extremely problematic. I have the good fortune to be acquainted with some police elsewhere where it isn't, so much, and I've tried to represent that a little bit here. I do not have the luck to have lived in any societies free of those who would take advantage of others, so I am not quite ready to write about that.

Volur claimed to have been a guard in Erebor in the days before the dragon. He had a badge with seven stars on it, worn underneath the plain jacket of an ordinary day laborer (or a thief) in the Blue Mountains. He also had a short blade, rusty and ragged and probably purposely so, and he rested a hand on its hilt when he talked to Nori in the shadows outside the Quartz Market.

"A fifth of your take, that's all," he murmured. He was tall, and bent down a little to speak to her, eyes wide and bright and as innocent as they could be in his line-seamed face. "For protection."

"From what?" Nori was furious. She'd been lifting since morning, and while she'd done well enough, a fifth of that was food out of Ori's mouth. 

Volur's brows lowered. "From the guard. Thorin's men would have you in chains, child. You don't want that, do you?" 

Nori scowled back, but Volur had the right of it. There were cells and dungeons and courthouses in Thorin's Halls, and Nori wanted to avoid them as much as she could. She dipped a hand into her pocket and took out a silver coin, flicking it to Volur with what she hoped he would read as pity and contempt. He caught it and waited, hand still on his dagger, until Nori sighed and reached under her cloak and took out a big red apple as well. He caught that and smiled, took a bite, then bowed.

"Our sort need to stick together," he said. "I'll see you again, and I'll see you stay free to work as you please." With that he turned away, and if Nori were bigger, or older, or better at violence, she would have jumped him. As it was, he sauntered off while she fumed. Then she reminded herself, very firmly, that she had a little one to feed, and that Ori was too old for nursing anymore. So it was back into the Market and back to work for her, hoping maybe Dori was having a more profitable day.

Volur didn't always come to her -- once a week, if that -- but he had an uncanny knack for knowing what Nori had taken, and would stand there waiting until he was satisfied with what she tossed. Sometimes she wondered if he wasn't worse than the guard, because of that nasty old knife and the threat it implied. But loss of her freedom was as much of a danger to her family as any threat to her person, and she couldn't afford either. So she pushed herself to steal a little extra, to make up for Volur's price. She didn't dare tell Dori -- he'd probably call the guard on them both, the stiff-necked old fool -- but on those days when she'd paid the protection and supper was thin, Dori would sigh just a little, and Nori had to stifle both rage and shame.

Then one day the Guard came anyway, great terrible armsmen with swords and axes and chains. She'd just thrown an amethyst bracelet to Volur, wishing she dared to hit him in the head, and then they were surrounded. To Nori's shock and immense relief, they clapped the cuffs on the old dwarf and not on her. A dwarf with silver braids to rival Dori's was reciting some legal formula. "Extortion," she heard, and "receiving stolen goods," and "credible threat of assault." Volur was led away, and Nori tried to slip off herself, but one guard -- tall, axes, and far too familiar -- was standing in her way.

Dwalin regarded Nori with his usual dour expression. "We've been watching him," he told her, unprompted. "It wasn't just you," and hearing that did make her feel better, just a little. "He took from traders and shopkeepers as well. Anyone he thought he could bully." And if Dwalin sounded angry at that, at least for once it wasn't directed at her, and Nori was glad.

"Well," she said. "Thanks to you for keeping Thorin's peace, then." She tried to walk away, but he blocked her again.

"Do you want to turn the rest of it over?" he asked. "You can do it here and now, and I won't arrest you. Or we can go back to the guardhouse, and search you. You can explain every single coin that you're carrying, and we'll post in the market to find out what anyone has lost."

Oh, how she hated the guard. Volur's twenty per cent was nothing compared to this humiliation. Nori threw a handful of coins at Dwalin's feet, and he took out a little notebook and knelt down, noting each coin as he collected them.

"Why do you do this?" she burst out. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"Those coins weren't yours, Nori," said Dwalin. (She was secretly relieved that he apparently didn't even think about the food, and glad that she had half a dozen hand-pies stashed from this morning's run on the bakery.) "But they weren't Volur's, either. We can't have dwarves holding knives over others for their keep. That's no way for a civilized people to run. We should work for our keep, not threaten or steal."

"That's what you're doing," she muttered, and Dwalin's brows lowered again.

"Returning stolen goods isn't the same as receiving them, Nori. Nor is intervening when one dwarf threatens another with a weapon, and presses to be paid off just to leave you safe. The Guard is here to protect the dwarves of Thorin's Halls. You don't have to pay for that." 

"But there you go with the coins," she snapped, and Dwalin's pale eyes sparked back at her.

"Earn some more through honest labor," he said, "and that week I'll give you another twenty per cent myself, as thanks for making my job easier."

He left her then, stomping away, and she had the sense to be relieved that was the end of her time with the Guard today. If she'd had a way to come by honest coin, in fact, she'd gladly have done so. But times were as they were, so she started off on the long walk away from the marketplace, out to the roads where Mannish folk worked their trade. They were harder to hide among, but easier to steal from, anyway.


End file.
